


War, Drabble.

by ParanoidRose



Category: Naruto
Genre: Child Abuse, Drabble, Gen, Mentioned Fugaku, Mentioned Kakashi, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, S-Rank Criminal, mentioned war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParanoidRose/pseuds/ParanoidRose
Summary: **I'm not sure what this is? It's been on my phone and laptop though, so I thought I try to do something with it. I'm not sure if It worked or not so let me know?**





	War, Drabble.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty random, kind of stupid? I'm sure what I was ever going for with this so it's very rough.  
> Good luck, and tell me how it was in the comments.

The color you think of when you think of night. The absolute darkness that we're wrapped in when we sleep. The pitch black that scares children and adults alike, for good reason. Oh, how it contrasts to the bright rays of the sun.

 

The raging, burning, wrath-filled rays that people loved so much. The reflection of the beams of light on the whitest of snow. 

 

The bright, pure reflection. The beauty of the most simple, basic elements. 

 

Stained. 

 

The once pure white reflection of the sun off of newly fallen snow was marked, burning with blood. A war, nearly ending, continued. Lives had already ended, enough for large villages. Hundreds of thousands of people had died, fighting for someone who couldn't care less about the families these people were trying to protect. 

 

The man leading the war, the lord himself, sat upon his throne. Counting his gold, feasting, whilst his men die. 

Safely tucked in his 'castle' of sorts. A self-centered long haired man, whom of which everyone knew. 

 

A man who loved nobody but himself. His own child lies neglected in its room. At the time he had been decent enough to hire a nanny and S rank criminal to train his son. The six-year-old could steal your wallet and slit your throat in a record of three seconds. One second too long and you were on your knees staring straight into the emotionless obsidian eyes of Sasuke Uchiha. 

The malnourished seventeen-year-old was tired of war. Tired of... well life. His short life had already been miserable as it was. The war showed no signs of stopping nor slowing anytime soon. The youngest heir had dreamt of strolling to the battlefield and taking his pick of who he wanted to blow his head off. 

He was old enough now though, to be drafted. Maybe he would finally get his wish.

__________________________________________

True to his thoughts, not a week later his father sent a servant to pack his bags. He was shipping into the raging battleground, Although, he supposed, they would have to 'train' him first. Probably hand him a rifle and laugh asking him to hold steady. What they wouldn't guess was that Sasuke had been trained to kill since he was born. 

 

Using whatever he could get his hands on would be easy. A rifle, knife, hell a string. He could be creative if push comes to shove.

 

Sasuke's dark hair, usually framing his face, stuck to his forehead. His legs almost shaking with fatigue. But he knew better. 

 

"Sasuke." The man spits at his child. "I've chosen to send you to the battlefield." Sasuke stood completely still. 

 

"Which means, you'll die there. Do you understand?" A slight tilt of Sasuke's head and a slap from his father and he was sent to the ground. "Disgusting. ." The man sneered.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in no way connected to Kishimoto, therefore do not own any of the characters in the fictional drabble.


End file.
